


Better Latte than never

by yellowteapots



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Barista Stiles, Coffee Shops, F/M, Martinski, Stydia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 16:34:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1435303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellowteapots/pseuds/yellowteapots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles didn't hate his job exactly, rather he just got fed up with it all. The only redeeming factor, other than reaping the benefits of the tip jar, Stiles supposed, was the petite strawberry blonde that came bustling in a couple of times a week with an armful of theoretical physics textbooks and her laptop bag slung over her shoulder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Latte than never

**Author's Note:**

> This was my second attempt at Stydia fanfic and was originally posted at stydia-fanfics.tumblr.com
> 
> It was my first coffee shop AU so I hope you guys enjoy it:)
> 
> Kudos and Comments appreciated if you have the time <3

** Better Latte than never **

Stiles had never been the type to ask for some pretentious drink, hell, he doesn't even really like coffee all that much which is a surprise considering where he works. But when the job came up at 'The Beacon Bean' who was he to say no? The diesel for his jeep doesn't pay for itself and he was trying to earn a little extra money for the road trip Scott and Isaac had suggested they take the start when school finished for the summer. 

Stiles didn't hate his job exactly, rather he just got fed up with the requests for 'my usual please', as if he kept a mental catalogue of the orders of everyone who came in, or the convoluted order of the 'non-fat, grande, soy chai latte with a half shot of espresso and no foam' as if that was something that people actually drank. The only redeeming factor, other than reaping the benefits of the tip jar, Stiles supposed, was the petite strawberry blonde that came bustling in a couple of times a week with an armful of theoretical physics textbooks and her laptop bag slung over her shoulder.

She never spent the same amount of time in the shop, sometimes just popping in for a latte and other times she would set up in one of the booths near the counter, her research papers and books spread across the table. Whenever the shop was quiet, or there was no one (bar Stiles) within earshot, she threw herself into her work, but the moment some of the other university students came in she would immediately gather up her papers, get out her phone and start chatting to someone called Allison, putting on a façade for the world around her. Other times, if she was the only person in the shop and she thought he was busy changing the filters then he would hear her start to hum along to whatever CD he'd chosen to play for the day.

In short, Stiles had grown accustomed to her presence and the day never seemed complete if she hadn't dropped in. 

Scott had, of course, noticed the effect the girl had on his best friend. It had been at least three months of Stiles waxing lyrical about the strawberry blonde girl whose eyes sparkled in the sunlight before he decided that enough was enough and it was time to intervene. 

They were at the Stilinski's, Stiles sat cross legged on his bed with Scott twisting about on the computer chair, making Stiles feel a bit nauseous. They'd been chatting aimlessly about school, Stiles grumbling about Coach and Scott explaining how he was failing classes after all the time he'd spent practicing for their next game, when she arose in conversation.

"...so she was just sitting there, quietly, minding her own business and then this guy came over and started hitting on her but she wasn't interested. I mean she could do much better-"

"Dude," Scott interrupted his friend, putting a hand firmly on the other boys shoulder. "If you like her so much why don’t you just ask her out? What's the worst that could happen?"

"Hmm, Scott, let me think...uh, she could totally reject me in front of the whole shop. I mean I know I'm a sucker for self-deprication but I think this might be taking things a bit far."

Scott rolled his eyes, “Don't give me that. I doubt she'd just flat our reject you but if you're going to insist on being so stubborn then why don't you, I don't know, get to know her a bit first or compliment her or something? Girls like that kind of stuff.”

“I don't know, man.”

“Whatever, if you're gonna make a move just make sure you don't leave it too long. How'd you feel if someone beat you too it?”

“I've just accepted the fact that it isn't going to happen.”

“Well it definitely won't happen if you don't grow some balls.”

-0-

After his chat with Scott the other night, Stiles was trying to wrack his brains to think of a way to get the girls attention. Every time she came in, still brandishing her textbooks and a winning smile, Stiles would try to sneak a glance at her, occasionally catching her eye and sending her a small smile which she always returned. He would try to be the one to take her order but he always seemed to be in the middle of something else when she came in, either cleaning the shop or preparing a drink for one of the other customers.

The next time she came in though, Stiles had plotted, what he thought, was the best course of action. As soon as he saw her pushing open the door, her blue dress blowing round her knees as the door opened, letting in a gust of wine, he leaned over and muttered to Erica, the girl he was working with, that he'd take this one if she wanted a break. The blonde had smiled in thanks and headed out towards the staff area, pulling off her cap as she passed through the door.

“Hello there,” he smiled, noticing the recognition flicker in her eyes. “What can I get for you?”

She took a while to answer, looking over the board of specials to Stiles' left, pondering her choice. “What do you recommend?” she asked, tucking a lose strand of hair behind her ear.

“If I'm honest, I'm not a huge fan of coffee but I quite like the gingerbread latte?” it sounded like a question.

She tilted her head as if considering the option. “Go on then, but on your head be it.”

She handed over the money, counting out the change into his hand from her purse. Stiles rang it through the till, handing her the receipt. “Can I get a name?” he asked. “Uh, in case it gets busy.”

The girl made a point of looking around the shop, the only other person in their being one of his dads deputies. She quirked an eyebrow at him but didn't say anything except, “Lydia.” 

Scribbling her name across the paper cup, Stiles began making the drink, making it as perfect as he could. Before he handed it over to the girl – to Lydia – he checked to see if she was watching him and then, seeing that she was typing on her phone, scrawled a quick comment on the side of the cup facing away from her.

  * _Lydia, hope you enjoy your drink_




He hoped that maybe leaving a few compliments and small notes on her cups might endear her to him. Maybe get her interested, intrigued even. Perhaps he'd eventually pluck up the courage to ask her out but for now he was content with the smile she sent him from her usual booth once she'd seen the note, pink dusted across her cheeks and a mischievous sparkle in her eye.

-0-

The next time she came in he'd already written on her cup, _don't work too hard_ , seeing that she looked a bit frazzled. 

He asked her what she'd like but again she asked him to recommend something, since he'd picked just the right thing last time.

“How about a mint hot chocolate? We do them in regular or large?”

“I'll have a large please,” she smiled, fatigue etched across her face.

“Been one of those days, huh?” he asked.

She nodded, handing him a note in exchange for the drink. 

“You better have one of these then.” he said, bagging up a chocolate muffin. “Have it on me, yeah?”

Lydia beamed, thanking him, before settling at her usual table and firing up her laptop. She was there until the end of his shift, looking up from her work every now and again to send him a friendly smile and a wave when she saw him leaving.

-0-

On her next visit Stiles didn't get to serve her, but still said a quick hello to her before turning to finish stocking up the pastry cupboard. She's with a friend, a brunette, whose about a head taller than her but nowhere near as stunning, Stiles thinks she's more like Scott's type. She didn't stay that time, taking her cup and leaving, but he knew he'd probably see her once more before the week ended.

As it turned out he hadn't had to wait too long. She came in the next day, her smile back and hair perfectly styled.

“I didn't get to properly thank you for the other day,” she said before he could take her order. “So thank you...” she trailed off.

“Stiles.”

“Stiles?”

He nodded. “So, Lydia.” she blushed seeing that he'd remembered her name. “What would you like to drink?”

“I was thinking maybe a white hot chocolate?” she asked.

“Good choice, my friend Scott likes those...not that he'd every admit it.” Stiles smiled, picking up a cup. “Marshmallows?”

“Is there any other way?” she countered, setting her school books on the counter.

He waited for the hot water, adjusting the temperature every so slightly. Stirring the liquid with one hand, he grabbed a marker and wrote a small message on the cup. 

  * _you look kind of beautiful in purple, S._




Once he'd handed over the drink, he set about busying himself by clearing the table next to hers in the hope of seeing her reaction. Keeping her in the corner of his eye, Stiles could see her eyes widening as she read the note and then the tell tale pink of her cheeks when she fought to suppress a smile. Then, she took a few sips of the drink before turning towards her books, highlighting a few passages. 

There was a line building up at the counter and Erica looked like she was struggling so Stiles gave up cleaning and made his way over to help takes some orders. Lydia caught his eye as he passed her table, mouthing a quick 'thanks' with a small smile, and he couldn’t help the stupid smile that settled itself on his lips as he began to serve.

The rush lasted for another twenty minutes until it finally subsided and Stiles could take a breather. He wiped down the counter top, cleaning of the spilt coffee, before glancing over to Lydia's table, she was gone. She must have left whilst it was busy, Stiles reasoned, not that it really mattered since his shift was almost over anyway.

“I'll just wipe the tables down and then I'll be off. Will you be okay until Boyd gets here?” he asked, picking up the cleaning spray and a clean dish cloth.

“Sure, he shouldn't be much longer.” Erica mumbled, checking her watch.

He made his way clockwise around the shop, as he always did, resorting to tying a black bag to one of his belt loops to making it much quicker to clear the tables. Some were filthier than others and he certainly didn't envy Boyd who'd have to chip the gum off the underside of the tables and the chairs before closing each night, that was definitely where Stiles drew the line.

It wasn't until he got to her usual table that Stiles noticed. 

Her cup was still there, only underneath his own message there was another which looked like it had been written onto the cup in, what was that, lipstick?

Lydia's hand, despite the lack of a real pen, was still neater than Stiles, her letters were more cursive and loopy.

_ You're not too bad yourself, L x _

He couldn't help but beam at that, and the smile didn't leave his lips all night.

-0-

He's round at Scott's that evening, Isaac at the door picking up the pizza they'd ordered, whilst Melissa was working the night shift. Isaac walked back in, placing the stack of boxes on the edge of Scott's bed. 

“So, Stiles,” he began, opening up one of the boxes and helping himself to a slice of garlic bread. “Have you asked that girl out yet or what?”

Scott sent the other boy a look before turning to Stiles and shrugging apologetically. “Sorry man, I didn't think he'd say anything.”

“Whatever,” Stiles rolled his eyes.

“I'll take that as a no then, shall I?” Isaac muttered.

“Shut up!” Stiles threw the nearest thing to hand at the blonde boy, which happened to be one of Scott's text books.

“Wow, someone's a little defensive.” Isaac smirked, catching the book before it could hit him.

“Really Isaac?” Scott chastised, raising his eyebrows. He paused for a moment, “So have you?”

“Oh my god. I need better friends.” 

He can virtually hear the pair of them rolling their eyes at him, but he can't find it in himself to actually give a shit. Maybe he should just stop hanging out with them.

-0-

Another week rolls around and he still hasn't plucked up the courage to ask Lydia on a date. The boys had continued to make jibes and his co-workers sent him sympathetic glances whenever they saw him pining.

He was rummaging in the fridge, trying to find milk so that he could refill the dispenser in the coffee machine, with the top half of his body completely immersed. He heard someone clear their throat and he whacked his head withdrawing from the fridge, muttering a string of curses under his breath.

And there she was, standing there with her hair neatly pinned up in braids that looped over her head. She looks so breathtaking that he forgot that he was meant to be working and just stood there blinking at her.

“Hi.” she smiles brightly, leaning on the counter and resting her chin on her palms. “Long time no speak, huh?”

She's not wrong, the past few times she's been in it had been so busy that he barely had time to think let alone hold an intelligent conversation but that was the curse of working during the school holidays, too many kids with nowhere to go but hang out in coffee shops for hours.

Then he realised that he should be answering her and not just staring. “Yeah, so have you been up to much lately?”

“Just school work, you know, walking my dog.” she talks with her hands, he notices. “You?”

He shrugs, “Making people coffee and, uh, well that's it really. The barista's curse.”

“Some might call it a gift.”

“They wouldn't be entirely wrong,” he quipped. Then he sets about making her a drink.

“What're you doing?” she asked. “I haven't told you what I want yet.”

“Trust me, I think you'll like it. Have I been wrong so far?”

In lieu of reply she just pouted.

He finished the drink quickly, sprinkling little shards of milk chocolate over the foam. He had the pen poised over the cup but Lydia stopped him before he could write a note across the cardboard.

“You know Stiles, if you want to talk to me you don't need to write notes on my coffee.” she smirked, reaching to take the drink from his hand.

“Actually, there's something I do need to write.” he shot her a cheeky grin. 

He gave her the cup and watched her eyebrows rise towards her hair line.

“These are numbers.” she said.

He nodded, “Yeah, they're mine. Uh,” his sudden bought of confidence diminished, “You could, erm, maybe...well you could....”

“Text you sometime?” she filled in. He saw the smile itching to spread itself across across her pink lips, eyes sparkling, and he hoped that meant that she would be putting his number to good use in the near future.

“Yeah, if you like.” he chuckled, grinning.

She turned to leave.

“Hey Lydia?” he called after her. “Your smile always brightens up my day.”

She blushed, rolling her eyes. “See you tomorrow Stiles.”

“Is that a date?”

She waved, and then she was gone.

-0-

She didn't text him that night, or the next morning. 

She didn't come into the shop for the entirety of his shift. Stiles was panicking, wracking his mind trying to work out what he had done wrong. He had been pacing up and down behind the counter, around the shop and in and out of the staff area. He just couldn't see what he could have done to deter her, why wouldn't she come in?

Stiles had given up hope as he signed off the cash register and headed out back to get his hoody and rucksack. He was already preparing himself for the mocking he'd have to endure from both Scott and Isaac after his excited rampage the night before, telling them how he was sure she'd text him that evening. This was just his luck, though, girls had been rejecting him since he was in the third grade and had first decided that girls weren't as yucky as he used to think.

He sighed, walking back out into the shop whilst running is fingers through his hair. He had his eyes fixed on his shoes and was keen to get out of the shop.

He reached the door, still not looking where he was going, and found himself nearly walking into someone walking into the shop.

His eyes whipped up, apologies already tumbling from his lips.

But there she was. Smiling widely at him, dimples in her cheeks and green eyes wide.

"So," Lydia began, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I believe you mentioned a date?"

"I, uh, well," Stiles just couldn't seem to get the words out. He let his eyes trail up and down her body, seeing she was dressed in a purple skirt and pale pink blouse underneath a brown leather jacket, as usual she looked beautiful. “Yeah I did.”

“Come on then,” she said, reaching out and taking his hand in hers. “Impress me.”

-0-

And impress her he did. 

They were out all evening, Stiles driving them around in his jeep with the radio playing. He parked up on the hill, just as the sun was starting to set.

“I must say, Stiles, you exceeded my expectations.” she teased, lacing their fingers together as the colours bled from the sky. 

“I'm glad.”

“You know, I thought you were never going to take the hint and ask me out.”

He felt his eyes bug out. “What?”

“I don't like coffee all that much Stiles and I can study perfectly well at home.”

“Really?” he asked, turning in his seat to face her.

“Yeah, you're kind of cute, you know.” she beamed, leaning over and prodding his nose.

“I am?” 

She nodded, pressing a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You are.”

The kiss sent a burst of confidence through him, “Better latte than never, eh?”

Lydia let out an exasperated sigh, but didn't move away. “Is it too late to change my mind about this?”

“Yes, yes it is.” he smirked, kissing her once more.

 

 

 


End file.
